


Day 15: Lipstick

by SaiTheWriter



Series: Turkstober2020 [15]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Crossdressing, Dress Up, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Party, Poor Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Reno/Tseng if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiTheWriter/pseuds/SaiTheWriter
Summary: A small excerpt from something I want to extrapolate on. Perhaps will be continued after Turkstober.
Relationships: Reno/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Series: Turkstober2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957075
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Turkstober 2020





	Day 15: Lipstick

Music tinkled along through the air, just loud enough to keep the chattering lull from overreaching. Not that he could find it in himself to truly care, it was just like all the other galas he’d ever attended. They had become so cut and dry he could likely name over half the buffet line. Full band, well dressed men and women dripping in jewelry and tobacco stench, talk of accomplishments that gradually rose in price tag...boring chatter. Wait staff approached with a low offer of drinks to the group he was currently in, and Rufus idly reached for the third glass of the night that promised to be long despite work in the morning. 

Almost before he could grab another glass from the tray, the waiter was moving off, his pleasantries done and accomplished for his route. Absolutely there was no way it had anything to do with the droning man beside him, nor the tittering two to his side with far more cleavage on show than was nearly possible. It was like they weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore. The music swayed gently as the songs shifted to something more to suggest a dance, something he politely declined almost immediately from one of the socialites in his close bubble. There were required moments in this gala, and they were to make nice polite talk and motions about their business. It did not require a dance. She would not be too hurt. Anyone with a rack that cost her as much as he suspected would likely sway someone else just as quickly.

Already there were people moving to the floor behind him, soft laughter and the sound of heels on polished marble buffeted by the gentle sway of skirts echoed around him. He had to admit, some of his favorite pastimes as a child were to sneak under the buffet table and watch the skirts sweeping along, their glittering colours turning along the room in artful sways of motion. Now that he was grown, it was likely his least favorite thing, as most women immediately took it as an invitation to a conversation he really didn’t want to get into. A woman with long black hair in an elegant knot brushed into him with an immediate apology, her voice dark in timbre while her partner laughed away his nerves at her misstep. Probably drunk. 

Her dark midnight skirt flashed beside him as she tilted away and began a waltzing cadence, joining the other colours breezing by. He would have paid her no mind, save for the look she’d offered him in passing. It was…different. She had lacked the demure and coquettish ways of these simpering beside him, and the fawning type that seemed to sweep along the other side ready to rain praise on him for his company’s exploits. No, that brazen look in her eyes kicked wild into his thoughts and remained even as he lost sight of her on the dance floor. 

Her makeup seemed just this side of too much, her cheeks too smooth and contoured to truly be natural. It was almost a shame; he was sure she would look just as stunning without the cover up. Which was quite the realization. An odd one to be sure. He’d not spent time thinking about an individual like that in several years. Since puberty, even. Those his father surrounded him with were often pleasing to the eye, but in more of a false pretense way. Now, however, he found his thoughts walking back. 

Throughout his night, he found his gaze catching flashes in his peripheral vision of those lovely dark skirts. Her soft laughter deep and low, rich like a dark wine. It had to be his imagination that brought up the idea that she never strayed too far from his area. It wasn’t that small of a venue, was it? Or was he simply fixating? She seemed to move between it all, and now he was reminded long ago in the year prior that walk. That had to be why she felt so familiar, she’d probably been in one of the various high society cliques that were a constant here. 

The hours passed on, faces and voices changing out for others so often that he barely registered anything other than the glass in his hand changing several times as the night grew long. His watch alerted him to the time with a small buzz, a minute warning that work would be happening tomorrow, even if he did not want to be out of bed for it.

It was on his way out when he noted his buzz had given him reason to clutch the glass, still half full in his hand. Searching as he paused near the entryway after signaling the valet for his car to be brought, the blond glanced about for someone with a platter to slap the thing atop and slip away. But alas, there seemed to be no one around the front hall save a few attendees on their way back in and himself while he waited for his car and driver. Alone to wait.

And then he wasn’t. 

The graceful patter of shoes tapped out a faint rhythm on the stone of the floor as she approached, the vibrant blue-green of her eyes matching the midnight of her dress in a swelling tide, the bright flare of her lipstick parting to flash a wild grin he’d only glanced upon briefly throughout the night. A gloved hand came up, slowly plucking the half empty flute from his hand and pressing it to her lips for a deep draught. Were anyone else in the room, he might have heard sharp intakes of breath at the brazen manner with which she worked, surely she wasn’t from a well groomed family if she was so forward with him. An unknown woman of mystery standing no less!

The stain of her lips remained on the glass when it pulled away, empty and spent in her fingers. A saucy wink was thrown his way and she moved off at a swaying gait to disappear back into the hall, stealing with her his breath. The thought to give chase or even beg a question never entered his mind. She had eluded him all evening, just to enter when he’d given up thought of seeing her face so clearly. No, it wasn’t his ability to chase after her. She had made it fairly clear that only with her permission would he see her. 

The trip home was a daze, a pleasant lull of intoxication that tugged him into bed and through the night to a pounding scream of his alarm. The next day always brought with it a terrible hangover, and that morning was nothing if not normal by those standards. Popping a painkiller and washing it down with a finger of whiskey always helped ease the pain, and soon enough he was trading it for coffee on his ride to work. 

Thankfully he was only on in the morning for a small brief with Tseng and his group, relaying anything strange from the night as per usual when surrounded with high walkers of various business conglomerates. Business as usual, given they were always there in some manner watching his actions. Stepping out of the elevator he was met with the group huddled together at the far end around screen. Well, mostly. The redhead was tilted back in his seat,a soulful look on his stoic partner while he complained about blisters of all things. The man didn’t even bother to pause as he entered, merely glancing over before quieting his tone.

Moving further in, he offered a nod towards their leader, reaching a seat near his side. The pill was kicking in, thank Shiva, and now that he was less high strung, his gaze began to roam. His eyes narrowed briefly as he ignored the whining of the brazen Turk, instead tilting to study their leader with a well veiled amount of surprise. 

There was…lipstick, on the man’s shirt collar. 

Just a faint press, but it allowed him just enough suspicion that he roved over the rest of him while he began his brief. The suit itself was nowhere near as rumpled as his second’s, but given how fastidious the man was about his appearance and comportment, it was his version of completely unkempt. The only conclusion was the man had not gone home last night. But that was odd. Tseng himself had obvious first hand information of the evening, it could only mean he took someone home. 

“Any questions before we adjourn, sir?”

The blond looked up, all eyes on him. The scarlet slashes along Reno’s skin twitched up when he offered the blond a wide grin as his gaze twitched around the room. “Mn, no. Just a statement.” He stood, reaching for his coat, eyes on Tseng in a way that gave him a view of the room before turning. “Next time check your suit in the morning.” The realization was immediate for Tseng, but he had to give it to the man, he made no show of response save the dawning in his eyes and a curt nod. “Sir.”

The hyena of the group looked positively apoplectic. At first he thought the man to be trying to hold in his laughter for the sake of his leader, but no. The closer he moved to the doorway, the more he noted the flush on his skin and mild horror. Was he so attached to his boss that he held second hand embarrassment? Perhaps. It would be nice to instill some of that bond into the rest of the departments. 

They could all learn a few things from the Turks.


End file.
